**COULDN’T BRING MYSELF TO LOVE**
“Girls, which one of you is Lily?” A young woman with a sly grin studied me and my mate, Emily.
“Thatd be me. Whats up?” I asked, puzzled.
“Got a letter for you, Lily. From William,” the stranger said, pulling a crumpled envelope from her coat pocket and handing it over.
“From William? Where is he?” I frowned.
“Hes been moved to a care home for adults. Waited for you like a dog waiting for scraps, he did. Nearly wore his eyes out looking for you. Gave me this to check for spellingdidnt want to embarrass himself in front of you. Anyway, Ive got to dash. Lunchtime soon. I work here as a carer.” She sighed, shot me a disapproving look, then hurried off.
It had all started one summer when Emily and I, sixteen and restless, wandered onto the grounds of some unfamiliar place, hungry for adventure. We plonked ourselves on a bench, chatting and laughing, not noticing the two lads approaching.
“Alright, girls? Bored? Fancy a chat?” one said, offering his hand. “Im William.”
“Lily,” I replied. “This is Emily. And whos your quiet mate?”
“Leonard,” the other mumbled.
They seemed old-fashioned, almost too proper. William frowned at our outfits. “Why dyou wear skirts that short? And Emily, that tops a bit revealing.”
Emily snorted. “Lads, if you stare too hard, your eyes might pop out. Then whered you be?”
William shrugged. “Hard not to look. Were blokes, arent we? You two smoke as well, then?”
“Course. But not properly,” I teased.
Only then did we notice something off about their legsWilliam shuffled awkwardly, Leonard had a heavy limp.
“You here for treatment?” I guessed.
“Yeah. Motorbike crash,” William rattled off. “Leonard took a bad dive off a cliff. Getting discharged soon.”
Back then, we swallowed their stories whole. We didnt realize they were lifelong residentsdisabled since childhood, stuck in a home, cut off from the world. To them, we were freedom in human form.
Turned out, William and Leonard were sharp, well-read, wise beyond their years. We started visiting weeklypartly out of pity, partly because they were brilliant company. It became routine. William would pinch flowers from the garden for me; Leonard folded paper cranes for Emily, bashful as a schoolboy. Wed cram onto one bench, William beside me, Leonard facing Emily, whod blush but never shied away.
Summer melted into a soggy autumn. School swallowed us whole. Exams, prom, graduationsoon, William and Leonard were a distant memory.
Until we wandered back to the care home months later. Sat on that same bench, waiting. No William with daisies, no Leonard with origami. Just that carer, thrusting a letter into my hands. I tore it open:
*”My dearest Lily, you were my sunshine. Those meetings kept me alive. Six months Ive stared out that window, hoping. You forgot me. Cant blame youour paths were never the same. But thank you for showing me real love. I remember your laugh, your smile, your hands. Its agony without you. Just one more glimpsethats all I ask.
Leonard and I turned eighteen. Theyre moving us come spring. Doubt well meet again. My hearts in tatters. Maybe Ill heal in time.
Goodbye, my darling.”*
*Yours always, William.*
A dried flower fell out. Shame crushed me. Too late to fix a thing. That old saying echoed*were responsible for those weve tamed.*
Id had no clue William felt that way. Could I have loved him back? No. Liked him? Sure. Enjoyed his wit, his stories. Flirted a bit, stoked the firenever meant to burn him.
Years passed. The letter yellowed; the flower turned to dust. But I still remember those afternoonseasy laughs, Williams terrible jokes.
Theres a postscript, though. Emily? She fell for Leonard. His own parents had ditched himborn with one leg shorter than the other. She trained as a teacher, works at a care home now. Married Leonard. Two grown sons.
William, Leonard said, lived alone. At forty, his mum turned up, took one look at him, wept, and whisked him off to her village. After that? No one knows.
